


Yellow Sundress

by ArchRose



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Headcanon, Mass Effect 2, messing with the past, renegade turned paragon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 07:08:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchRose/pseuds/ArchRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She has just stopped Garrus from shooting Sidonis, to exact his revenge. But why? She was his friend; his best friend in fact. Why did he do this? Why did she turn against him? </p><p>It was for the girl in the yellow sundress.</p><p>Setting is in ME2 for the budding relationship of femShep and Garrus. This follows the timeline of ME2 but thrown in with my own headcanon for the back story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yellow Sundress

**Author's Note:**

> I always felt that the way Garrus reacted to the Sidonis situation was subdued, should you choose to block the shot. With how much time and energy went into this back story to develop his character, the result was lackluster. He seemed too at ease with the aftermath, and it felt like something else was going on behind the scenes. So here’s my interpretation.
> 
> Some cannon, and some personal head cannon. Setting in ME2, and trigger warning for implications of sexual assault (letting you all know now there is no graphic detail about it). femShep/Garrus budding relationship. Bumped up the rating just in case.
> 
> femShep details: Earthborn, Paragrade, War Hero
> 
> And of course, Bioware owns ME. I'm just playing in their sandbox!

Furious was not enough to describe the feelings as they tremor inside his body. This was something else entirely.

His palms were sweating underneath his gloves to the point that his talons felt like they were itching. His blood rushed to his head with a pounding fever. And he was pretty sure he chipped a tooth after gnashing his canines together to keep what little composure he had left.

Garrus was beyond the point of being ‘pissed off.’ After everything he had said, everything that he had done for _her_ , this was too much. Shepard stopped him from killing Sidonis. She talked _him_ down from taking the shot. She let the traitor walk away. Her bright green eyes flared at his scope when she finally turned to face Garrus. They were defiant.

Shepard didn’t state a reason. “It’s for the best.”

Black, white, and grey. Garrus barely remembered what he said. His attention focused on trying to not unleash his anger on the Commander or the Drell Assassin accompanying them on the task. Garrus may have labeled himself as a bad Turian, but he was still one to follow the rules when he was on-duty. The cab ride back to the Normandy, he bunkered down in the backseat and continued to grind his teeth. His left fist clenching and relaxing in tune to his breathing to try and find some sanity in Shepard’s actions. But the same question continued to circle in his mind: ‘ _What possessed her to save Sidonis?_ ’

Shepard knew about Omega. She saved Garrus from death. She pulled his ass out of hell and guided him to shelter. Siha, that name the Drell gave her described her perfectly. In that moment when his body lay still, blue blood pooling around his face, her touch, her voice, her presence as a warrior angel saved him. He remembers opening his eyes to a bright light, fingers gripping against the barrel of his sniper rifle, and her face appeared before him, silhouetted by the light of the room. Her eyes shone with a lightness he had never seen, as they blurred behind wells of water. She was a Spirit incarnate, there to take him to a better place. She understood all too well what Sidonis did to him and his team.

Betrayal.

He needed to repay the kindness, and she stood in his scope, willing to die for that scumbag of a Turian.

Didn’t Shepard show her interest in him just a few days ago? Didn’t she say she wanted something more than friendship? And she would understand completely if he didn’t. She wasn’t asking as the Commander, but as his friend. She researched. She understood under Turian protocol that such a request was to be accepted without hesitation from a subordinate. She didn’t want that. Shepard cared about Garrus in a way neither of them could describe.

If she wanted him so much, then why did she stop him from taking that shot?

Why?

But Garrus knew Shepard better than that. Whatever was going on off the field would never interfere with her work. All of those months of Liara and Kaiden pining over Shepard’s affection, she never allowed for them to bring it to the job.

No. Whatever the reason may be that she protected Sidonis, it wasn’t based on an emotional response.

Garrus didn’t remember boarding the Normandy. He didn’t remember walking through the CIC or the chatter of the crewmembers. He didn’t remember unloading his rifle into the Weapons Bay, and he certainly didn’t remember stepping into the elevator with Thane to begin their descent to the Crew Deck. But he did hear Shepard, speaking in a voice barely above a whisper “I’ll be in my cabin if you want to talk.”

She knew he was angry, and wanted to give him time alone.

‘ _How considerate_ ,’ Garrus thought to himself, eyes trained on the doors as the car descended. The Drell stood quietly a few feet to his right, with his hands poised behind his back.

Garrus continued to breathe deeply, flexing his left hand at each inhale, releasing on the exhale. His heart felt like it was beating in his head; the noise so loud that he didn’t realize the sound emanating from his sub-vocals. A hum, like a dragonfly’s wings flapping against a pond while it seeks for its pray. A sound so faint that most would have never picked up on it, unless they were looking for it.

“You should not be so surprised by her actions.”

Garrus did not answer the Drell’s words. He kept his eyes forward, still working on calming his breathing before his veins exploded.

“She has prevented many others on this ship from taking revenge. Yours should have been no different.”

But it was. Shepard was Garrus’ friend. His closest and the only one he’s ever truly trusted in his life. She may have stopped him with Doctor Saleon, but this was unlike the missions the rest of the ground team placed on her. Sidonis nearly destroyed Garrus. The traitor took innocent lives. He needed to pay for his actions. And Shepard didn’t help when Garrus needed her.

“Your emotions should not decide the fate of the battlefield.”

Garrus took in a deep breath. “Drell…” His sub vocals rumbled precariously. He let out a huff, feeling his pulse quicken and his left hand clenching hard against his glove. Talons starting to tear through the fibers of the fabric.

“And I have a name. I prefer you to use it.”

Garrus lost all rational thought at that point. Maybe it was the even temper of Thane’s tone. Or perhaps it was the scent of confidence spilling from every pore of the reptilian skin. Garrus didn’t like it, and his sanity fluttered away. He turned his form to the Assassin, spreading his arms apart and displaying them in an offensive position. Palms open, fingers wide, bending his legs at the knees to prep for an attack.

But he was too slow; reaction time hampered by his enraged state. Thane slid behind Garrus’ back, grasping his hands at the Turian’s wrists, pulling them into his own body and applying pressure. Garrus buckled under the intensity of the pain jolting through his muscles and brought his knees to the floor. Thane towered over Garrus, emphasizing his dominance by placing a foot on Garrus’ lower back just at his waist line. Though he still wore armor, Garrus knew the Assassin could easily disable him right then and there at the flicker of a breath. Garrus yielded, but would not allow the Drell the satisfaction of admitting said defeat. He kept his body to the floor, muscles taut.

“It may not be clear now, but she wouldn’t have followed through with her actions without a reason.”

Garrus huffed. “How would you know?” A growl escaped his plated mouth as Thane pressed his foot deeper into the Turian’s back.

“I have not have been in her presence for long, but I understand the Commander’s position.”

“Do you now?” Garrus mocked back through baited breath.

“You are different from us because she regards you with the highest esteem. Trusts you unlike anyone else on her ship. Shepard looks back to you in battle not to see if you’re following orders. You do it as though it were second nature. But to make sure you’re safe.” Thane relaxed his grip as the tension from the room began to settle. Garrus’ breathing started to even out as the weight of the words carried through his body. “If it were anyone else, they would have been put in their place and we would have resumed our duties. She would have let you have your way. Until she saw a change in you, something that sparked a need to stop what was happening. Shepard defied your actions because she cares deeply for you. If she did not, she wouldn’t have challenged you.”

Garrus didn’t respond as the elevator reached its destination on the Crew Deck; a ping at the door to indicate it was safe to open. And while he didn’t want to admit that the Drell was right, lying on the floor at the hands of an assassin, perspective was inching forward in his mind.

“Vakarian, I would like to tell you a story that may help you understand, if you permit me a few more minutes and join me in the mess hall.” As quickly as Thane had pinned down Archangel, the Assassin removed himself from restraining the man, and casually exited the box as if nothing had occurred. Hands poised once more behind his back, without even the hint of a swish of his garment while leaving.

Garrus pushed on his hands to gather stability back to his body. His knees remained on the floor as he pressed himself off the ground, shaking his head to stir away the aches that had developed in his neck.

“Officer Vakarian, do you need any medical assistance?”

The blue omnipotent AI orb known as EDI appeared at the elevator console.

“No. I’m fine,” he grumbled.

Standing up and rotating his shoulders back, his neck lulling from side to side, Garrus held a hand to the doorframe to prevent the cabin from closing once more as he gathered his thoughts. One step at a time, he decided to follow Thane. Partially for curiosity, but maybe the Drell had a point to all of this. As Garrus rounded the corner, Thane was sitting at a table with a white mug in his hands, something warm and smelling tangy with a thickness that lifted into the air. Garrus wordlessly pulled out the seat across from the man in black, sitting down cautiously as he planted his elbows on the table.

Thane kept his attention to his mug, the faintest hint of a smile passing his lips. “I want to tell you about the day that I met my wife.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

“ _If you cannot see past your anger and fear, then you are unworthy of her affection_.”

Thane’s words continued to ring through Garrus’ brain for an hour after their conversation. Funny how their situations were similar in spite of the differences. Garrus paced in the Main Battery for a few more minutes, trying to work out what he wanted to say to Shepard. He wasn’t even sure where to begin. His mouth tried to form words but they fell apart as soon as he thought about her eyes, their intensity bearing down his rifle’s scope. Damn that woman for destroying all rational thought he had left. With a disgruntled exhale, Garrus left his workbench and walked to the elevator. This was a battle that he tried to prep for, but even with Thane’s insight, he couldn’t figure out which hand, if any, to play. Best to just go up and talk it out. Maybe he would understand Shepard better, and salvage a relationship, whatever it may be.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Shepard stood at her armor storage unit wiping down the last bit of dirt from an arm guard before depositing it into its cubby. The light grey rag hung in her left hand as she crumpled it between her fingers, turning it into a ball and chucking it to a receptacle below the cabinet before closing the drawer with her other hand. She stood in a loose fitting grey shirt and tight black shorts, opting to change before cleaning and storing her armor and under suit. Her bare feet pattered against the floor as she strode a few steps up to the entry-way before stopping at the top of the steps. “You can enter Garrus.” She asked EDI to inform her when he was in the elevator and on his way up.

The lock flittered green as the door to her cabin flew open. Garrus hovered outside, still in his dented armor as he slowly prowled in, hands behind his back and head held high. As the doors closed behind him, Shepard flicked her eyes over to the console nearby. “EDI, lock the door and disable the remaining surveillance safe-guards.” As the door locked to the red circle, she shifted her body to rest her back along the empty fish tank.

Garrus watched her intently, standing still in front of her desk, but didn’t say a word. He barely blinked as the Human before him edged her body against the wall. The blue glow cascaded along her deep red hair and down to her shoulders; the light silhouetting her neck, collarbone, and waist with a divine grace. Garrus had to suppress an intimate shudder. This was still Shepard standing before him, but the slim, strong figure, with her hair flowing versus the tight bun she usually kept it in, her body exposed, and her skin translucent against the glass, she was almost angelic. He was finding it difficult to not respond to her in an affectionate manner. Never one to find other species attractive, Shepard was different. And she seemed so relaxed, even with the stern look on her face, her lips held tight and her brows slightly furrowed to a point above the ridge of her nose. She would never look like this in front of anyone; the loose shirt and tight shorts. She was always about professionalism and business to everyone. Everyone but him. He knew that. That rage that had been building up in Garrus’ system was dissipating slowly the longer he watched her.

He could never be truly angry at Shepard to the point of hatred no matter what she had done. Under the azure light, flecks of darker blue clinging against her skin, mimicking the ocean against her fair tone, she was too beautiful in her otherworldly way for Garrus to ignore. While his conscious softened, his demeanor did not. He still stood tall, not allowing his Commander any leeway on the situation. But she didn’t speak. She was waiting for him.

Garrus bit back the frustration knowing that Shepard would always have the upper hand, no matter the circumstances. He took in a breath and exhaled slowly through his nostrils, parting his mouth plates slightly as he began to form the words along his tongue.

“Why did you protect him?” His voice came out much rougher then intended, almost as a growl, but she didn’t flinch or break her pose. Her body still leaned against the fish tank, arms crossed along her waistline.

Still she did not speak. Her eyes followed his form as he slightly shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Out of anyone on this ship,” he continued, “you knew how important it was for me to do this. Why did you stand in the way?”

Again, no words from the Commander. Garrus felt his mandible nervously twitch as his annoyance continued to spurn. He clenched his hands a little tighter into fists, pressing the tips of his blunted nails into the palm of his hands. She wasn’t wavering. At all. Garrus dropped his head and took in several deep breaths, feeling the tremble in his chest as he tried to suppress his emotions. No matter how civil he wanted to be, no matter how…lovely she may look right now Shepard wasn’t making it easy on him. He needed to fight it out. He needed to yell and scream and do something, anything to grab her attention and make her understand why she should have backed him up on Sidonis.

“Garrus.”

Shepard’s voice barely registered above a whisper, but it still held the reassuring tone he was all too familiar with. He pulled his head up to meet her gaze. “Don’t hold back,” she continued.

His eyes widened briefly before narrowing into slits as he tilted his head and regarded her with curiosity. Still breathing with intensity, Garrus dropped his hands to his sides, now flexing his gloved fingers. As if he could read her mind, her eyes flashed with a quick response in regard to his emotion: ‘ _Yell at me. Fight me. Do whatever you want. But you are not leaving until we talk_.’

Garrus dropped his head again before speaking. “Why did you do this to me?” His hands balled into fists one more as he continued to stare at the floor, mindlessly counting the metal tiles beneath his boots. A rumble stemmed from his sub vocals. “Sidonis…” the name tasted like bile in the back of his throat. “He did not deserve to live. What he did to those men, _my_ men deserved better.”

He released his hands from piercing his palms and started pacing in the small office, between the glass walls of model ships to the bathroom door, taking only 2-3 steps at each turn. Garrus shot a glance over at Shepard who still remained poised along her perch. He felt Shepard’s face soften under the anger in his eyes, and turned his head away to the floor again, less he lose his nerve to speak.

“I let them down. I needed to get Sidonis. He has to pay for his crimes. And now what?” Garrus barked out as he stopped pacing for a moment, his head tilting up to the ceiling. “He lives and they died. Why? He needed to be held responsible. And he walks free. What justice is that?” Garrus puffed his chest, showing some act of intimidation that was completely arbitray. “I don’t care that he can’t eat, that he can’t sleep without seeing their faces. That’s not enough. If you were me, you would have never let him go. You would have gunned him down just like every other merc we have faced. Sidnois killed innocent men. Good men. Men that were fighting for something right. And what was their reward? Death. And that unforgivable excuse for a Turian walked.” He lowered his head and resumed his pacing, watching the office spin by at each pass without turning to Shepard. “I went to Omega to uphold justice. To defend the innocent. To carry on your name and your legacy. To do the right thing.” Garrus stopped at the middle of the room, turning his attention to Shepard and walking up to her. He stopped just a foot in front of her, leaning forward so his face was a few inches away for his breath to coalesce on her skin. “You are the only person that I care about; that I will follow to the end without question.” His voice dropped back down to a low rumble, but maintained the same intensity. “Why did you do this to me Shepard? Why did you go back on your word?”

Shepard didn’t move. She didn’t change her demeanor. But her eyes were empathetic. She understood more than he did on why he was hurting. Everyone else: sparing Jacob’s father from death to be taken in by the Alliance, stopping Miranda from killing her friend Niket, preventing Jack from dismembering the biotic boy at Pragia; Garrus understood what Shepard was doing in every one of those situations. But this was different. She was his best friend and he needed her more than anything in that moment to follow his instructions.

Emotional ties be damned.

This mission mattered. She didn’t and now he was lost. How could he trust her anymore if she wasn’t capable of trusting him? Garrus closed his eyes as he allowed the emotion to wash over his skin. The anger was receding now that some of his frustrations were released, but the tension was beyond palatable. He could feel that she was still holding the same position and gaze.

Unexpectedly, something soft, like a textured silk, pressed against the left side of his face.

The hammering of his heart in his ears, the anxiety building in his forehead, the strain from his hands clenching against his gloves, it all fell away as Garrus opened his eyes and found Shepard staring back at him, compassion filling her visage. ‘ _You can't predict how people will act, Garrus. But you can control how you'll respond_.’

“I did it to save you.”

That tremor in her lips sent a shock of pain through Garrus’ heart. He wanted to real back and gain some form of control over the situation, but he didn’t want to be released from Shepard’s gentle grasp. Thane was right. How did he know and how was Garrus so oblivious to it?

“Seeing what revenge was doing to you, what it was turning you into, it…it reminded me of myself. I couldn’t...”

Shepard closed her eyes, slipping her hand away from Garrus’ skin, before her eyes opened into a cold stare. The shine of the emerald green had dulled; the softness waned. Garrus didn’t know how to react, concern flickering to his brow plates as they shifted up, but he didn’t pull away.

“Whatever happens from here, this conversation does not leave this room.” As she clenched her teeth tightly to her jaw, Garrus saw the tension beginning to crawl through her cheek bones and down her neck. He pulled himself upright and out of her space with a grimace, knowing that whatever she wanted to say was causing an immeasurable amount of pain that she needed to reign in. Garrus simply nodded as he retreated with his hands behind his back.

Shepard’s eyes looked dead, almost black as she focused on the Turian standing in front of her. He was still angry. The squint in his eyes and the way he held his body was evident of that, but at least he had calmed down a bit after he spoke. Even as composed as he was Shepard had never seen him so angry. It was obvious he was holding back to not hurt her physically. She almost wished that he had. It probably would have made this situation much easier to handle.

In truth, Shepard felt she deserved it.

This is one of the few times where she acted not just for her friend, but for herself and it was quietly tormenting her. Shepard was never selfish. She always proceeded with the interest of others first. Watching how Garrus acted and reacted he was losing respect for her and that was tearing her apart. He knew she did it for herself in some way. Why else would he have lashed out so aggressively?

This was no longer about Garrus. This was about her.

He needed to know her reasons. He had to be told, even if he completely lost admiration for her because of it, Garrus needed to understand.

Shepard crossed her arms, keeping her posture pressed into the empty fish tank. Her eyes glossed over his intimidating figure as she picked a spot behind him along the model enclosed wall. She settled on a Quarian ship, a perfect sphere rotating at the port side with its tiny markings and lights reflecting against the table lamp on her desk as it spun. The irony was not lost on Shepard on how everything seemingly managed to come full circle in her life.

“You know that I have no family,” she began with a passive tone. “I was raised in an orphanage until I was old enough to join the Alliance.” She shifted her right shoulder slightly, the one she favored and the one she constantly carried her stress. “I know we joke that I can’t go anywhere for 5 minutes without a barrage of bullets following me.” Shepard inhaled a deep breath before closing her eyes to continue.  “Truthfully? I think I spent all of my luck when I was a child.” She opened her eyes and caught Garrus’ as they continued to watch her intently. Shepard allowed her gaze to fall away to her desk, watching her personal terminal blink a steady green light, signifying a new message.

Or two.

Or fifteen.

Where I lived, it wasn’t a kind place. You fight to survive from the moment you learned to walk.

“It happens quite often that children without a family are often forgotten and left in the hands of whatever governmental system they were born under.” Shepard brought her right hand up to the back of her neck, rubbing at it gently with her forefinger and thumb. A nervous twitch Garrus was familiar with. “In my case, boys grew up to sell drugs and join gangs for protection. Girls would sell their bodies for…well, you know. Or be the girlfriends of gang members and do the same thing.” Shepard dropped her hand and tucked it back under her left arm. “So yeah. I was really lucky that I had an orphanage that took pity on me to not get swept into it like everyone else. I was left on their front door a day out from the hospital with my birth certificate, and nothing else.”

Shepard rolled her shoulders forward and back. She was rambling. It was a rare thing for her to do this, but that was part of her nerves working at her body. “Anyway, the caretaker always looked out for me. She treated me like her own flesh and blood. My circumstances were different from the rest. Every kid is either orphaned or abandoned when they are a few years old. I was barely a day. There were perks to being the favorite, but I also received the harshest punishments. The younger kids always looked up to me. And I kept them safe as best as I could. Even those that left to join the gangs knew never to mess with our block.”

She chanced a look and shifted her eyes up to catch Garrus’. He stood with military precision, intently following her every word and not breaking the composed strenght of his face. “There was a young girl we took in when she was seven. Cassandra.” Shepard shook her head from side to side as her gaze drifted to the ceiling. “She was the prettiest girl I had ever seen. Long golden, wavy hair. Big blue eyes that seemed to shine no matter how you looked at them. Her voice was like honey, but in a charming way. And her skin was a perfect crème color with a light tan. She looked like a doll. Everyone wanted to protect her. She was too precious to be living in our crap-hole.” Shepard felt the corner of her lips twitch ever so briefly into a hint of a smile, the wave of memories moving with the ebb and flow of her mind. “And she was kind to everyone. It didn’t matter who they were, she would give the same smile and bright eyes to anyone that crossed her path. Whenever she had extra money from chores she would use it to buy sweets for the younger kids. She came from a wealthy family. Her parents died in an accident. The family she had left didn’t want the responsibility. But she never once ever made us feel inferior. She always accepted things as they were, but worked to make everyone’s life better. The kid was perfect. She was everything that Humanity should be.”

Shepard dropped her eyes to the desk again, feeling the weight of her emotions begging to well up along the corners. But she wasn’t going to allow them to win. “She lived with us for 3 years. Just after her 10th birthday she wanted to buy something for a new child whose parents had died similar to Cassandra’s. She thought it might cheer him up. I was 15 at the time. The store was just two blocks away.” Shepard’s arms began to fall to her sides, hands gripping against the thin railing behind her hips that separated the glass enclosed wall from the cabin. “She left early in the afternoon. And after an hour passed she wasn’t back. Immediately I pulled 3 of the other older kids and we set out to find her. We spent hours looking. We checked every alley, every back-route to the orphanage, every abandoned car. We even checked a few empty buildings and basements just in case. It wasn’t that far of a walk. She had been there hundreds of times. People knew her. But no one could remember seeing her.

“We covered the city for about a mile. The street lights were turning on as night crept in. And we couldn’t find a single trace of her. It was like she vanished. There was one more apartment complex on the street, so we decided to look before stopping for the day. Two of the kids went to the door to ask if they had seen anything. Myself and another boy, Derrick, went into the alleys.” Shepard gripped her hands tightly against the railing. “And there she was.” Her voice was shallow, barely above a whisper as her knuckles turned stark white. “I was alone when I saw her. It…it was…” Shepard swallowed the acidic taste rising in her throat. “No amount of military training, or desensitization could prepare anyone for what I saw.” Shepard sighed. “She was mutilated.” Her breath became ragged at the last word, and she didn’t dare look up to meet the eyes of the Turian before her. “I found her in a pile of garbage stacked up along the apartment wall. I can still smell the bile from her lips. The blood running between her legs. Her body looked like it was broken in half. Her hair hacked off. Her face sliced, stained with tears and her eyes shut so tight that you could see her screaming.” Shepard eased her hands from the railing when she felt the tips of her fingers starting to go numb. “She was so damaged, so destroyed that I almost didn’t recognize her. Except for her dress. It was a yellow sundress. Pink flowers on the hem circled in white clouds.” Shepard took in a deep breath. “Amazing that they weren’t stained.

“Cassandra was this perfect little girl. She loved everyone and some bastards completely destroyed what she represented. A light in our dark world.” Shepard closed her eyes, but kept her face to the floor, willing the tears to stay back. “The rest of the day seemed to disappear after that. I know I pulled a dusty blanket from across the alley and draped it over her. I called out to the other boy to get the police. I stood, watching over her. I wasn’t going to let a single person touch her until the authorities arrived. And when they did, they couldn’t promise anything. I knew they wouldn’t. Cassandra was another orphan. No one else in the city would have cared but us.

“I was in a daze for the rest of the night. The kids, they wouldn’t stop crying. I left out all of the details for them. Only the caretaker and I really knew. But I wasn’t sad. I didn’t wallow in remorse or pity. I was angry.” Shepard lifted her head to finally look at Garrus. Her eyes crinkled and fevered at their corners, as though a fire burnt in her soul. He had never seen her look so enraged in her eyes and he took a very small step back. “I knew the monsters that did that to her, and I wanted to make them pay.” Shepard grasped her knuckles tightly against the railing again. Even bared her teeth as her voice came out into a growl.

“They left their mark on her. The Reds. Small time gang on Earth. Their hits were usually robbery. But when they did something big they left a calling card.” Shepard squinted as she watched Garrus’ expression soften. “The fuckers carved their logo into her thigh.”

Garrus dropped his hands to his sides, mandibles held tight to his face as he made a keening sound deep in his throat. He was afraid, possibly? He wasn’t sure. Commander Shepard was not the type of person to swear. Ever. Seeing her in this state, Garrus didn’t know how to react. Should he stay? Should he leave? Should he try to comfort her? Her body was communicating so many signals he didn’t know where to begin. Her teeth gnashed against each other. Her nostrils were flaring as her body pulled forward. It was as though that railing she was clinging onto for dear life was the only thing keeping her grounded from falling into full rage. Was this what she wanted to show him? Is this what revenge was doing to him?

He realized that this was fear, but not for himself. Garrus was afraid for Shepard and what was happening to her.

“That’s how they always marked their victims,” she continued between clenched teeth. “Shop keepers mostly. The occasional prostitute. But this was an act so violent, so evil I knew exactly who did it.” Her eyes flashed at Garrus again; the green dulling to a burning red. “Troy and Rome. Fucking irony that they killed a girl named Cassandra.”

The visor hovering over Garrus’ eye began a data mine on the names, the text scrolling by quickly as he worked to focus on Shepard.

First result: Human mythology.

Second result: Cassandra, daughter of the Queen of Troy.

Third result: A woman so beautiful, she was given the gift of prophecy by another god named Apollo.

Fourth result: Buried in Rome, after committing suicide to prevent being raped by the demi-god Ajax.

“I should have known. I saw them. They never dared to come near our building, but they would occasionally slip out into view and look our way. Usually a casual glance. It happened a lot when they were scouting for new recruits. But thinking back, they had to be watching her. The sick psychopaths were waiting for her to be alone.”

Shepard leaned back again, but still kept the intensity trained on Garrus. “Two weeks I didn’t speak a single word. I went through the motions of my chores, but I stopped caring. I never played with the kids. I quit helping them with their school work. I ignored everything around me. Barely ate. Hardly bathed. I stopped going to the library. All that mattered was that Troy and Rome needed to suffer for what they did. She was my responsibility. I didn’t protect her when she needed it the most.” Shepard blinked momentarily as the tinges of water welled into her vision.

“One day, they walked past the orphanage, across the street. They never came that close before. They didn’t stay for long but leered at something out front. No one else seemed to have noticed. Everyone had gone back into their usual routine after Cassandra died. But I saw. I watched as they rounded the corner. I quickly grabbed a jacket and rushed out the door to follow them. I always stayed well out of sight, but I went down every alley they did. I stopped in every store, passed every pedestrian. I followed them to their hideout and camped it for days, waiting for the moment when the two were absolutely alone. I hid myself well out of site of anyone, but I could see everything that went on at their camp.” A sly grin caught along the corners of her mouth. “I had so much shit on The Reds with the things I saw. They would get their punishment soon enough. They weren’t the targets.”

Garrus slid another step back as Shepard released her grip from the railing. Her hands were completely translucent now from the strength she used to hold herself together. But now that they were relaxed, the blood flowing back to them. They appeared possessed.

“I learned everything that I could about those two. I watched when they ate, when they went to the bathroom, when they fucked one of their girls from the gang. I started following their patterns, eating and sleeping when they did.” Shepard smirked again. “They needed to be awake for my arrival.

“And then I had my chance. The two story building was deserted. Tuesday. Night time. Pick-up day from drug suppliers. They were alone. I pulled out a razor that I bought a few days earlier and carried it with me as I darted across the street and waved between the lights so no one could catch my face. Even with a hood over my head, I didn’t want to chance it. I slipped through a side door that I had seen them use dozens of times, using an electronic code that I now knew by heart. I circled up to a wooden staircase. The place smelled like death, appropriate enough. I prepped the razor in my left hand and watched the lights of the room flicker under the door. I knew they would be watching television. I stood outside their door and waited. Troy would be in the bathroom in 3 minutes.” Shepard’s eyes glazed over into a predatorial stare as she took a few deep breaths.

“I waited so long for that moment that I had to will my hands to stop trembling.

“And as I heard Troy’s footsteps across the floor, I placed a hand on the door knob and slowly turned it.” Shepard shook her head. “The funny thing is that the entire moment went by in a blur. I wanted it to. I didn’t relish in their deaths, but there was a part of me that wanted to remember every detail for Cassandra’s memory. I know that I crept up behind the couch that Rome was sitting on, looped my right arm around his chest and slid the razor across his throat before releasing him. He gasped for air and stumbled to the ground, covering the television in his blood. But he was also so quiet. I thought for sure he would have made enough noise for Troy to run out, but he didn’t. It was almost like he was expecting me to come.

“He was afraid.

“The man was at least 10 years older than me and he was afraid of me, a teenage girl.” Shepard blinked. “He didn’t try to fight back when I broke his arms or when I smashed his testicles with my boot. And he listened as I told him word for word how precious Cassandra was. He refused to struggle and let the blood pool around his neck.

“When Troy was finished in the bathroom, I was already waiting for him. He was much bigger then I was, so I knew conventional tactics wouldn’t work. I found a metal rod from another room, and knocked him in the back between the shoulder blades so he would falter. I threw my weight into the second blow against his head so he would hit the floor. As soon as he did, I went through the same motions as I had with Rome. Slit his throat. Broke his arms. Crushed his manhood.”

Shepard’s right brow quirked up. “At first he said nothing, letting the blood clot and pool along his neck. But after my speech, he laughed.

“His laugh was so evil, so insane that it was piercing my ears. I plunged the razor into his chest hoping he would stop but he didn’t. He was taunting me. He wanted me to get angry and mutilate his body just like he did to Cassandra. I couldn’t take it anymore. I picked the metal rod up again and threw it against the side of his face until he passed out. His face was completely deformed after what I did.” Shepard dropped her gaze again to the floor and settled back against the wall, hands on the railing. Her shoulders tensed against the pressure of the glass behind her. “I watched Rome writhing on the floor until he died, and I waited until Troy was no longer breathing. For a split second, I felt free. That I had brought justice back where it needed to be.

“And I immediately sank on my knees and started to cry.

“It didn’t bring Cassandra back. It didn’t stop them from violating her and taking her away. They got the easy out. They wouldn’t spend the rest of their lives in prison being reminded of their actions every day. Instead….”

Shepard sucked in a deep breath before dropping it into a whisper so low that Garrus almost couldn’t make it out. “…I killed them. In cold blood.”

She felt her hands beginning to tremble again, just like they did that day, and concentrated on keeping them still. “I stalked them for a week. I dreamt about killing them for almost a month. I wanted them to feel pain and be tortured. But in the end I turned into them.” Shepard pressed her hands into the bar so tightly behind her that she felt her wrists would snap at any moment under the pressure. “I don’t know how long I was on the floor, but when I realized what I had done, I never felt so scared in my life. So I kept reciting to myself to stick to the plan. I rushed out as fast as I could, the razor still in my hand, and ran. There was a river about half a mile away, and I sprinted the entire time. I don’t remember running so fast, and for so long, in my entire life. My lungs were burning by the time I stopped, just long enough to throw the razor into the river, and I kept going. My jacket I tossed at one point into a dumpster and just kept running. I couldn’t stop. I wanted to get as far away as I possibly could. And when I couldn’t run any more, I kept walking until the sun peeked up on the horizon.

“I didn’t care if The Reds came after me. I had turned myself into a monster.

“Somehow I returned to the orphanage. I don’t know when it happened, but the caretaker was outside waiting for me. I’m sure I looked like a mess. She didn’t say anything at first, just looked at me for a moment and told me to go inside and clean up. I didn’t dare look at her eyes. I think she knew what I had done, and I would have rather died right then and there than to see her disappointed in me. So I kept my head down, went inside, and sheltered myself in the bathroom.”

Shepard finally relaxed her grip as she willed herself to look at Garrus. She nearly choked back on her words when she saw his expression changed back to its harsh glare. But she had to continue if he was to understand. “That was the last time I cried. I spent my tears on those….” Shepard shook her head. “Fuck, I wouldn’t even call them people, but I did. I cried for them. I cried for Cassandra. I cried for my soul. I sat under that shower until the water ran cold and I could no longer feel my limbs. For months I grew thinner. Food was never the same. I never slept. I didn’t speak. I never looked at my caretaker’s eyes again and she never spoke to me. The children all became afraid of me. They never knew what I did, but I completely changed.”

Shepard released her grip from the railing one last time, letting her back succumb to the coolness of the glass, attempting to ease the tension in her shoulders as they slumped down into her chest. “I tried to kill myself.” The fire in her eyes broke on those words, and the green embers started to return, though filtered between the foggy glasses of water. “I couldn’t. I could see Cassandra looking at me every time I tried. And then Troy laughing at me. He would never stop laughing until I punched a wall or buried my head under a pillow.

“That is what revenge does to you. For all of the time planning, dreaming, waiting, and hoping that you finally did something right, the result is always the same. You turn into the very thing that you tried so hard to stop.”

She swallowed the lump building in her throat again as she released a heavy sigh hugging against her lungs. “I know that I am a strong woman. Even back then, I stood up to everyone and everything that wanted to harm those kids. But even I’m not strong enough to resist being affected by retribution.”

Shepard continued to hold her eyes on Garrus, but still he did not react. While his stance was sullen, his eyes seemed to have grown colder. The flecks of silver no longer shone. “The only thing that pulled me out of the grave was a chance to administer justice the right way. A few months later I turned 16 and a new program began at the local police department to recruit teenagers. Pull them off the streets, train them, and use their help to get the bad guys behind bars. It came at just the right time. I wouldn’t be here today otherwise. It was the right way to honor Cassandra’s memory.”

Shepard sighed. “And now you know. The great Commander Shepard is a murderer. She’s a monster just like those living in the black. I have spent my entire life since then trying to make up for it, and it gets harder every damn day.” She took another deep breath as she wrapped her arms around her midsection. “I don’t want you to end up like me Garrus.” She flicked her eyes quickly, willing her body to hold back the tears that were threatening to escape. “I can’t bear the thought of loosing you to those emotions. I lost my friend, my best friend, for two years. And you’re back. I can’t lose you for the rest of my life. Not for vengeance.”

Garrus finally made a change in his position, turning his body to face the door of her cabin, his hands balling up into fists, staying silent as he stood there. It felt like an eternity that the unnatural hum of the ship was the only sound reverberating in the room. “Garrus,” Shepard’s voice faintly breached the quiet. “Say something.”

He closed his eyes and slowly opened them again. “What do you want me to say?” he murmured softly.

Shepard dropped her head. “Garrus…”

“Unlock the door. I need to think.” He didn’t sound angry or hurt, but the assuredness of his voice worried Shepard. As she raised her left arm slightly, tapping her fingers on her Omni tool to change the red lock back to green, she didn’t dare look up as his boots gently tapped against the floor. She felt like a child again, so afraid of his reactions just like the caretaker, that she couldn’t watch him leave. She heard the swish of the door open and closed a few seconds later.

‘ _I’ve lost him_.’

Shepard slid down the side of the wall until her bottom hit the ground, knees up as her hands collapsed with her to the metal floor. She banged her head back, looking up at the cold, dark ceiling to continually push back the emotions in her system. She just released the giant skeleton in her closet to her best friend, and he walked away. Shepard could deal with it if Garrus didn’t want to be intimate with her because they were two different species. And she could handle it if he no longer wanted to be her friend, as much of a challenge as that would be. But never, never did she want to lose his respect. That pain was eating away at her.

She murdered two men and her friend no longer respects her. Shepard brought up her right hand and buried her head into it, stifling the sob building up in her throat.

Outside her cabin, in the hallway, Garrus found a spot on the floor beside her door. His head in his hands as he rubbed them back and forth over his fringe to release the tension building in him. Just when he thought he had Shepard figured out, something new comes up and throws him completely off his balance. Garrus was mad. He spent all of this time tracking down Sidonis. The poor excuse of a Turian should not have been left to live. Shepard did not have the right to stop Garrus. And then that story. Her voice. Those men. That poor girl. Why would Humans do such a thing to one of their own? Garrus felt all of his anger drain as Shepard changed before him. His Commander, his friend that he knew was the strongest person in the galaxy, and she crumbled before him because of revenge. Somehow, she still managed to survive it.

Garrus’ thoughts in that moment quickly turned into admiration. No longer did he want to yell at her, but worship the ground that she walked on. This woman incredibly harnessed the pain to bring justice to the galaxy, the right way. In her position, he would have gone after those Humans and tore them limb from limb. But to hear her confess as such, Garrus realized just how deep her affections were for him. She was willing to put her life on the line so he wouldn’t end his own in the depression that would follow after killing Sidonis. Shit, Shepard still heard the voices after all of these years. He knew he couldn’t live with that for his life. No. There would be other ways to avenge the death of his team.

She made the right call. Garrus needed to be stopped. And he would be forever in her debt for saving him. He understood her actions. He got it.

A muffled gasp caught his attention from Shepard’s quarters. He quickly stood up and pressed his body close to the wall.

Shepard bit her bottom lip as she started to cave into her feelings. The burning sensation in her throat could no longer be appeased by ignoring it or swallowing it down. Her face began to flush against the emotion. She tried to block it out with her hand, pressing it against her mouth to stifle any sounds. “Garrus,” she softly cried out. “Please…please forgive me.”

The door swished open.

Shepard bolted her head up, pulling her hand away as Garrus’ filled the door frame. His cobalt blue eyes pierced right into her and she unexpectedly released another sob.

In four large steps, Garrus was kneeling at her side, wrapping his long arms around her back and pulling her into his body. He settled to the floor, stretching out his legs to accommodate his spurs, while shifting her legs perpendicular to his own as she sat in his lap. A hand brushed against the back of her head and eased her face into the crook of the uninjured side of his neck. Garrus pressed his cheek against her head to let his mandibles flutter as a means of comfort. “Thank you,” he whispered.

He felt Shepard’s body stiffen before falling back into wordless sobs against his neck. If she cried, he never felt the tears. His other hand held against the small of her back to keep her close. Whatever comfort he could offer her in this moment, he would do it. She needed it. Garrus began to vibrate within his sub vocals a melody of some sort that mimicked the thrumming of the wings on a humming bird. All the while he stroked her hair gingerly. It took time, but eventually Shepard began to relax against Garrus’ armor, feeling the song course through her system.

Shepard didn’t need to hear Garrus speak another word. She could feel it in his actions and his touch that he forgave her. Her breathing began to grow shallow at each passing minute. Her hands traced lazily along the ridge of his armor by his neck until they stilled. Her eyes heavily lidded until she fell asleep in his arms; emotions having drained her energy. Shepard didn’t know how long they were in that position on the floor. She didn’t remember being pulled up into his arms and laid in her bed. She didn’t remember the sound of his feet as he left her quarters, or the lock click into place on the door.

But she did remember the smooth sensation of his gloved hand brushing away a piece of hair out of her face.

She did remember the course plates of his forehead touching against her temples.

And she did remember his words: “No matter what happens,” he whispered, “I will always respect you.”

For the first time since waking up in the Cerberus medical facility, Shepard had no nightmares. The sound of Garrus’ voice offering her the words she longed to hear helped her sleep through the night.


End file.
